5/9/10

In this particular book, Master Sheng Yen gives you a feeling for what the idea is of the practice of Chan and where not to look for it. I think that is an important aspect because as we begin to practice, we tend to try to compartmentalize and conceptualize about what the practice is and what the mind is rather than freeing the mind and just letting it naturally find its own level.

It is difficult because we are constantly trying to attain this or achieve that in our life. Since we were kids, we were brought up in Peewee League baseball and we go to this league and Pop Warner and in high school and college and get this degree and this job. We are constantly judging our lives based on what we've done and people are judging us based on what we've done instead of saying "there's got to be more to this than that." Rather than having yourself carry around all these badges of accomplishment, let your acts speak for you rather than all these things that you think that are there and what you really are about. It is important especially now that there are a lot of young people in this room today. You have to look at it and say what is the meaning of all of this, where are we going and what am I going to do?

Obviously, you have to perform the function of achieving whatever academic and employment goals there that is necessary for you to sustain yourself on this life. On the other hand, you have to look much deeper and see what more is there and to truly see what is happening around you and what this world is made of.

What Chan is, is a little bit different than others. This is the preface to what Master Sheng Yen is talking about. In this particular part of his book chapter called Daily Living states this:

The study and the practice of Chan Buddhism develop understanding of certain principles of nonattachment. One principle is that the Chan practitioner does not dwell on his or her learning accomplishments. If you've writing a book, you let go your efforts and forget the contents. The book is done. It's gone. You just forget about it and move on to another.

Another principle is that while you should have money in the bank and money in your pocket, you should have no money in your head. Both principles emphasize the importance of maintaining an empty mind. Some people believe the opposite: They obsess about their past efforts and accomplishments; or their minds are filled with money and their pockets are turned inside out and their bank accounts register a zero balance.

Here's where a lot of our problems are unfortunately because we have a lot of money in our head or lack the money in our head because we have no money in our pocket or in the bank. So we really need to put everything into perspective.

If I am giving a lecture and the topic is Chan, then there's no need for preparation. If I have to speak about scholarly research, however, then I prefer to have advance warning; learned words have limitations, but in certain situations they are unavoidable. True Chan teaching does not rely on words, but on practice and direct experience.

This is the key to the practice. You have to go beyond the words into the practice. You put it into gear, you put it into motion in your life and you directly experience life. Most of the time, we try to run away from it. We tend to run away from our discomforts and our problems and we don't want to reckon with it. Sometimes, we don't want to reckon with it simply by thinking about it. We think about not from the idea of trying to find a solution but just worrying about it rather than really directly dealing with the situations that are there.

Chan deals with all things that are there and it is clear. When we don't do that, we create a tremendous amount of suffering for our self and for those around us. The idea of this direct experience is that you're directly experiencing everything that's there. Does not mean that if someone slaps you in the face you just say, "That hurts bad, now I am going to slap you back." Not like that. You directly experience what is happening. You are aware of the situation - why that person hit you and what is there.

Last year, there was a monk. He is one of Master Sheng Yen's disciples and he was giving a retreat in New York. He had people sign a waiver saying "I am going to hit you with a stick." So the people signed up for the whole thing and he did hit the people with a stick. Not because he was mean or masochistic but actually it was a proper application. However, it didn't quite cross cultural lines too well. When that happened, all of a sudden he finally hit the wrong person. This person complained vehemently about being struck with a stick and exposed the problem with doing that in this day and society.

A lot of times, I'd like to do something like that, not out of hatred but simply because it appears to be the right moment for that person. But you can't do that now. In that particular moment he didn't understand it. That person did not understand the situation when they are being hit and why they were being hit. Quite the opposite, the self really welled up in them and complained and probably threatened to sue. Ultimately, this monk had to abandon that method of practice at that particular retreat even though everybody knew that this was going to happen. Hitting with a stick was just a test. When you are sitting on your cushion and you are on the method and you say "I am very calm" and all of a sudden you get hit with a stick and you're not happy. What happened to all that calmness that you had? When one is at a retreat like this and does get hit and directly experiences that moment and clearly understand what's happening, they will not suffer from that moment. They may feel the shock of the strike but they will not suffer.

Generally, what one gets hit with is called an incense stick. It's a very lightweight board. They might strike somebody but not on a really harmful area. They might strike him on the shoulder or somewhere. In the old days, the Masters used to do that as a way of bringing a person and testing to see exactly whether they were as calm as they say they were.

This is a comparison to a situation where somebody attacks you and you go right into it and fall into this kind of clouded mind rather than letting it go, completely realizing it and figuring out what you are going to do with it. If you don't do that, then your mind becomes very dull. But if you can directly experience and see exactly what's arising and why it is arising there, you have control over the situation because you're not allowing the self to dictate what your further conduct is going to be. You are accessing and analyzing what the precise response should be based on what is there.

Back to the book:

When we say that Chan does not rely on words, we mean that Chan does not depend on what has been spoken or written in the past. If we recognize that there is no need to believe even in the words of Sakyamuni Buddha, we can approach Chan unencumbered by what we have heard and what we have read.

A while back, I had a young man who came to this class and probably his purpose was to come to me and to have me certify that he has reached a certain level (that he had not reached). He wanted to impress me and the students by talking about how much he knew. He wanted to sit down and chat with me about the Dharma and Buddhist subjects. That kind of talk of trying to impress people doesn't serve a function. It is just people talking about Buddhism and essentially just regurgitating things. When I told him that the Dharma is poop, (I actually use a harsher word than that) he was absolutely shocked. And he was like "I'm going to tell on you. You're saying that the Dharma is poop." No!! I am saying that the Dharma is poop for you. To me it's okay but you've turned it into poop because what you've done is you're relying on the words and you're here holding somebody else's jewels and thinking that they're yours.

The true practice (of Chan) has no words so why bother with them? If you start collecting them, you really mess up the whole idea of what the practice is. You think that you've done so well. It's like a Christmas tree that has so many of ornaments on it. It is no longer pretty because it has so many attachments to it. You instead replace the attachments to ordinary things with a detachment of the Dharma.

There was once a story of a Master who couldn't bring this one young monk to realization so he suggested he go with another master. When the monk went to the other master, he learned the true practice. When he came back to the master that sent him, he saw his master reading a scroll and he said "what a pity that you're reading this scroll but yet the answer lies 2 feet beyond the scroll itself." It is another way of saying "it's beyond those words" on the page, sometimes we say "it's in-between the words." Later on you'll say "it's just those words and just the space in between them."

The words don't matter. What matters is you incorporating those words (Chan) into your life and practicing and becoming aware of what is happening around you. That's all the practice is - becoming aware. What are we aware of? We are aware of the environment; not inside, not outside, no internal, no external - just simply what is in mind.

You begin to keep looking at this mind. You want to know about what this mind is. You look at this and check this out and see what mind is and keep working that way. Like a piece of taffy stuck to the back of your throat that's very sweet but nevertheless you can't swallow it. You want to know the answer. You have to have this kind of curiosity to the practice: How does the mind work? How does it make me think this or make me do this or make be feel this. Where did this thought come from and where did it go to? Did it go to the same place it came from? You just keep asking these questions and looking and looking. The poor soul that answers itself will never get it. It's in the questions. You just have to keep asking the questions.

During the last 9-day retreat conducted in Pine Bush, New York, the people were doing fast walking meditation around the Chan Hall then I had them running. All of a sudden, I said "STOP!!!" and said, "What is the question?" I would look at the people with "what is the question?" One of my students that I've known for years just looks at me and he starts answering. I said, "Too late" and went to the others.

Other people were just like shaking what the question was? After the retreat was over, some people wondered what the question was. They asked me "what is the question?" So I said, "WHAT," is the question. "What," is the question; there was no question there, just this clear and just this finger pointing at the moon. One day that might hit you. That's when I wanted to get to that one person and hit him with a stick. When he was just about ready to let go, I said "should I hit him or not?" Well, maybe not in this generation.

Continuing on:

Other religions and schools of philosophy wrestle with considerable verbiage. Ch'an advocates throwing everything away. When you practice, leave the past behind - what you have read, heard or experienced.

You leave it behind. You use the foundation of the practice to be able to prepare your mind to practice. When you're sitting in meditation and you're watching your method, you're just watching your method. You're not there as if you're cooking some soup and saying "almost there, almost ready, I can almost taste it." Just keep stirring and stirring it. Don't worry about when it is going to be done. The function is in stirring the soup so it doesn't stick to the bottom. That is all you are doing when you are practicing Chan. But there are always the little pieces that you attach to and you think that you are these little characteristics and quirks and desires and vexations. Chan is just stirring all of that altogether very slowly. No need to figure out when it is going to be done. It's done when it's done. It's very easy. All you have to do is let the mind settle.

Sometimes they say it's like catching a feather on a fan. If you are trying to catch a feather on a fan, the feather is always going away from you. But if you just simply see the feather floating and be still, the feather on its own accord and nature will then land right on the fan. That's the way you do it with the method. If you hold on to the method just enough to keep the method there, it is like you're there just waiting to catch a feather with the fan. You don't need to move the mind. Moving the mind makes it worse.

Recently, when I spoke about this principle of letting go and leaving behind, someone said, "It is scary to throw away your whole past and totally discard everything you know." I am not really advocating that you return to a vegetative state, in which your head resembles a dried pumpkin. We must learn, but we should not cling to what we have learned. We do not want learning in our heads when we practice.

To practice, only the method should be there. We practice just watching our method. Everything else is preparatory to that. We are mindful. We are aware of when things are arising in mind, why they are arising in mind, and we are clear about it. It helps us set the stage for the practice.

Most of us, however, find it difficult to let go of our cherished concepts and views.

Once I slept at a professor's house. In the morning, when we gathered for breakfast, his wife asked me, "Did you sleep well? Did anything bother you?" I said, "I slept quite well." I told them that no place in the world is free from noise and disturbance. She added that no matter where we are and what we do, our minds are always buzzing with self-created problems. This is true: we are most disturbed by what goes on in our heads and not by what goes on around us.

Our minds are full of thoughts: impressionistic, illusory tangles the past, present and future. For the most part, our thoughts consist of worrying: that we cannot yet what we want when we want it, and that we cannot get rid of what displeases us when we are displeased.

It might seem that some people always get what they want. Imagine a playboy. Perhaps he has three girlfriends he can telephone on any given night. Even though he can call whichever girl friend he wants, he still has to choose one of the three. Can he call all three at the same time? There are limits to everything.

When we make decisions, we usually connect the past, present, and future, a process fraught with contradictions. I don't bother to go through this process. I am engaged with a long list of activities and have many disciples in Taiwan and in the United States. I am always busy. Nevertheless, I am never disturbed by my obligations and responsibilities. People asked me how I manage to deal with my work; I tell them that I don't put myself in the way of what I do. There is nothing that I wish to do or not to do for personal gain or preservation. I do what I have to do with all my heart. I do not do what is not permitted me, what is unnecessary, and what I am unable to do.

What's really important is that you don't follow your mind; instead, you follow your heart. When you do things, you do that for the function of what you are doing. That's important. You get lost in what you're doing. What I mean by getting lost is the self gets lost when you do something. For instance, when you are at work, there is no need for the self to be there. You are just working. Whatever you're doing, you're following the function. The self gets in the way when it goes, "what time is it? I'm hungry. When is the break?" A person said once to me "I can't stand this kids crying" or whatever it is. You have all these different things that are affecting you because you let them affect you. Just do your work. Have you ever gone to work or study and you really put yourself into it and all of a sudden, it's over? The place, the time, it is over. It is incredible. It's really incredible when that happens because all of a sudden you realize it wasn't that bad after all. But if you sit there and think about what time it is, it's really bad. It's like being at a retreat and looking at the clock and almost thinking the clock is going backwards.

As a young boy, my parents would take me to the Catholic Church for mass and it wasn't very interesting. In those days, they say the mass in Latin. Nevertheless, it wasn't anything I understood. Probably the most I understood was when at half time the priest would get up there and talk about things that were going on with the church. I would always look back at the clock although I was told it was a mortal sin to look back at the clock. Looking back at the clock but the clock never seems to move, so for me, it was a very long time in there.

A lot of times we do that in our adult life. We suffer so much because we tied ourselves to the concept of time. The only way were tied to the concept of time is just from the self. By being tied this way, it makes us less productive because we're spending too much time thinking about what time it is rather than just doing what we're doing. When we do what we're doing, we are very concentrated and we do things quicker and better. But instead, we always inject the self. If we let the self go, we rest in this present moment.

For instance, is there anybody here that doesn't have a problem in their life right now, please raise your hand? What a surprise; nobody raised their hand. Everybody has a problem of some kind or another.

It is natural. This is the product of samsaric existence as a human sentient being. Everybody has a problem. So the whole thing is at this moment even though you have this problem in your life, it's not here in this present moment.

Right now, you are taking a rest; taking a rest from yourself, taking a rest from your problems, taking a rest from work, taking a rest from driving and you are just sitting there. Not bad, really. Pretty cool; you can just sit here. You don't have to cling to anything or hold on to anything. Just take a rest right now. Makes life a lot easier and you will live longer (to suffer more about other things). Laughing…

But just relax and you rest in the present moment. You are clear you are here; totally aware that you're here and that you are just sitting here. That's the start.

Back to the book:

Does this mean that I constantly change directions, try one thing, abandon it, and then try something else? No, because a central purpose underlies all my actions. In everything I do, I try to maintain the attitude of a bodhisattva who benefits others as much as possible.

When you think this way, it makes it a lot easier because you're thinking less about yourself. You should not think of yourself as a bodhisattva or as a saint because you will really mess yourself up. You are trying to put yourself up or elevate yourself to such a high level that you can't sustain.

If my work for others benefits me as well, that's fine, but self-sacrifice is sometimes needed. Because I maintain such an attitude, I have fewer vexations.

In a small bit in this way, I follow my Master and I try my best to spread the Dharma and to teach people how to develop their own practice. A lot of people ask "you are always so busy, you are going there, and you're doing that. Don't you ever get tired?" And I say "not really." Sometimes my physical body gets tired so I had to take a rest from the stress of traveling or the exertion of traveling. But you do what you can. You teach what you can and in this way, there is less of you to suffer.

But do I suffer? Sure I do. Whenever of I think of my problems or I think about the issues, sure I suffer along with everybody else. But whenever I'm teaching or whatever I'm doing, I don't suffer. I'm not thinking "I am 2000 miles from home, what am I doing here? I could be at the beach today." It doesn't interfere with my function to teach. This is part of the rest in let's say Michigan or Chicago from being in California. And when I am back here, I am resting from teaching.

Do not burden yourself with overwhelming, unrealistic demands. Do what you can with the abilities you possess right now. Do not think you have to be a saint and perform miraculous deeds. It is Confucianism that advocates striving after sagehood or sainthood. And though Buddhism does advocate the bodhisattva ideal, that idea should be adopted only by those who are ready. Everything comes in it's time. To be taken for a bodhisattva when you have not attained this state is to invite serious problems.

I've always told you that I am a practitioner just like you. I have my flaws because otherwise people will say "you know Gilbert he says he's a bodhisattva. He says he is a bodhisattva? OMG, and he does this and he does that." Whatever it is, it is a terrible standard to live up to. We strive to reach these levels with our vows but we don't play like we are saints. We are realistic and honest with our practice. That is the most important thing - being honest with what we do. If we mess up, we mess up and we know that we can get back on track.

I've mentioned before, Master Sheng Yen says that a person with a vow to break is a bodhisattva. A person without a vow to break is not a practitioner but just simply like a cork floating in the ocean subject to wherever the current takes it. But a person who has a vow to break, at least we've got some kind of a compass there to point us in the direction that we should be going. That is the difference because even if we go off the path or we know that we've broken a vow, we can always come back and bring ourselves back.

I sometimes come across people who treat me as if I were a great master. To such people I say "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but please don't take me for a saint. Otherwise you will end up causing both of us harm." Why would anyone want to add to his or her suffering by posing as someone else's ideal, as someone else's illusion? Most often our suffering derives from the unrealistic demands that we make on ourselves or what others make upon us.

Once someone said to Master Sheng Yen, "Shifu, you're already a bodhisattva of the ninth Bhumi (which means that he is way high up there like almost ready for complete enlightenment). You must be a bodhisattva of that level too." Shifu says, "No, I am not because only a bodhisattva of that level could discern a bodhisattva of that level."

We do not grade people. We don't try to put them there. He doesn't want people to put him on a giant pedestal. All he wanted was to be just a simple monk and do what he has to do. Of course, as the leader of a group of the Dharma Drum, he had to take on the role as a leader. But that was something as a function not as something as a reward or as the symbol or status.

Bodhidharma also said that anyone can become a Buddha and that everyone has a Buddha-nature. But none of us automatically realize Buddha-nature. So in order to help us attain this realization, Bodhidharma gave us two methods. The first is the method of principle. The second is the method of practice.

When you use the method of principle, you find that there is nothing to talk about and nothing to do. You don't use logic and there is no need to practice. You simply make your mind the same as a wall. This wall is transparent and does not move. Nonetheless, you can hang things on it and write on it. The wall itself, however, does not change. 3606

He's talking about your True Nature. The Noumenon aspect of the true nature here is a transparent wall. It is essentially the nature of the mind in which all phenomena is projected upon. Understand that the mind is this way and everything is projected upon it. In this very moment, you are using your true nature to be aware of this moment. If you're not aware of it, it is because you have too any other spurious thoughts coming up constantly that you take to be your self. But in fact, these are just writings on this transparent wall. And it just goes away the next moment and then it is more writings going up there. So where are you to be found in all that? But if you understand by the principle of that and you see in this way, there is no place that you cannot be.

Your mind may contain knowledge and experience, but remains unaffected by them. In reality, your mind is empty of everything, just as the substance of the wall is neither enlarged nor reduced by what is hung upon it.

When the mind is confused, you believe that what is stored in it is you. You continually try to take some things out and put other things in, which only increases mental motion and confusion. The mind is strange: When you have no use for something stored in it, the something comes out and gets in the way. Conversely, when you need something from your mind, it often happens that this something refuses to emerge.

A while back, I took one of my associates to court with me to a trial and she was just shocked at what a trial attorney does and how you can use this mind to talk. It was unfathomable to picture herself in that same situation of trying to respond moment to moment to whatever the inquiries are, the objections, of following whatever is going on. Because our mind is yet not ripen in terms of the practice and to calm down. But when you calm down, you see things very clearly and things and information that need to come out, comes out naturally.

But when the mind is very tight, a lot of junk comes out. Like when somebody said something to you, you perceive it to be an insult. "Hey that person just insulted you; hit him, say something, insult him back." Where did that junk come from? It is not going to help the situation but yet, right away, we attach to that. We think it is us. We say, "Okay, you are a jerk too. Hey, he is going to say something back. Hit him."

The mind is that way. It is always coming up with a bunch of junk that comes out when it shouldn't because you let it. You conditioned it to work this way. But if you realize this stuff is just coming out because of the self, and the self has this illusory sense of preservation and protection, then you begin to see things that this is all stuff that is written on this transparent wall and you see it for what it is. That is the practice - seeing things for what they are and not mistaking all of these writings on the wall to be our self.

We often meet people who talk constantly. Sometimes there is nothing left for us to do but tell them to shut up. That may be easy but what happens when it is your mind that you're trying to quiet? Are you able to tell your mind to silence your wandering thoughts?

Can you tell your mind to shut up? You can't do it. Your mind doesn't even pay attention. So who's minding the store? You want to be quiet and the mind is just going chatter, chatter, chatter. We can always say shut up to a friend or somebody else. We even put our hands on our ears. But even if we put our hands on our ears, will that stop the chattering in our head? No!! It makes it worse. We hear ourselves even more. So who's minding the store? Who is in control?

And that is where we will stop. Next week, we're going to talk about the Four Stages of the Practice. They're very helpful in terms of understanding what the practice is. These are all good points that are brought out here for daily living. Again if Chan is not relevant to your daily living, then you're not doing it right.